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A/N: The text in bold is Spike's fantasy
CHAPTER 3: Imaginary freedom
After guiding the prisoner through one drab hallway after another, the guard unlocked the handcuffs and pushed Spike outside of the building and into the equally dull yard. Everything in this soddin place was gray and grayer, with a touch of beige and greenish gray here and there. Spike had never considered himself a fan of bright colors and all that, but he swore to all Gods, or whoever was ruling this bleedin world, that if he ever got out of this Hell, nothing gray would ever be allowed in his house ever again.
Spike took a moment to massage his sore wrists then looked up, just as a few drops of cold rain splashed on his face.
“Bloody great.”
He shook his head in disbelief. Even the sky matched the surroundings. How appropriate. He took his pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket and lit one up, wondering if his sudden acute awareness of the décor’s drabness had anything to do with his earlier meeting with the new warden. The monotone environment seemed even duller when compared to the sparkling young woman.
“Get a grip mate…” Spike mumbled to himself, cigarette dangling from his lips.
He heard his name being called and turned to face in the direction where the voice came from. His friend Gunn was coming towards him.
“Hey man! What' you doin'g here? I thought for sure you’d disappear for a week after what happened in the cafeteria. How come they didn‘t throw your ass in isolation?”
Spike smirked. “Seems like there’s some kind of justice in this world after all. Who would have known.”
Gunn chuckled. “I know you survive on sarcasm Spike, but lets not push it.”
When there was no indication that his friend was going to say anything about what happened, Charles sighed and rolled his eyes at the blonde man.
“Am I gonna have to beat it out of you or are you gonna tell me what happened in there?”
Spike looked at Gunn like he'd just remembered the man was there.
“Oh. Right…” They started walking towards a more secluded area. “Nothing happened.”
Gunn gave Spike a ‘don’t give me that shit’ look. “So you’re telling me you almost killed a guy, got dragged by your hair out of the cafeteria and into the new warden’s office, and nothing happened? What kind of a fucking moron do you think I am?”
Spike flicked the remains of his cigarette away and sat on the cold ground with his back to the metal fence before answering.
“You’re mum would be very cross with you for using such foul language. I’m bloody fucking sure.”
“Ha. Ha. So, what happened?”
“Nothing. Happened. Got sent to the warden’s office, the chit asked me my side of the story, I told her what happened, and she sent me on my merry way.”
“Alright then.” Gunn seemed skeptical, but didn’t want to push the issue. He chose another tactic instead. “So, what was she like? You got to see her before everybody else, now you’re gonna have to share the details with your buddy. ”
“Real ugly thing. Old and fat, with those yellow teeth. Nasty.”
“You’re shitting me man.” Charles gave Spike a horrified look. They had all expected it to be bad, but never that bad.
“Yes I am. And it’s bloody entertaining.”
“Making you eat rocks would be entertaining too, but you don’t see me doing it.” Charles smiled smugly as Spike gave him the finger. “So, should I repeat the question? What does she look like?”
**A bloody vision of perfection and beauty. A goddess. With the most mesmerizing green eyes, hair like melted gold, and a smile that could brighten this Hellhole.**
“She was alright I guess. If you like the type. Short little California bird with the blonde hair and the tan.”
“Blonde California babe, huh? Just the type of chicks I dig.”
“Not a chance mate. Don’t waste a minute even thinking about the chit. She’s way out of your league, not to mention out of reach.” Spike wondered briefly who he was talking too when saying this. Gunn, or himself.
“Relax man. A guy’s allowed to fantasize. Besides, I haven‘t even seen her yet. But I can‘t wait now.”
“She owns your arse. The chit is here for one purpose, and one purpose only: make your life a living hell. Do you really want to start fantasizing about her? My advice to you mate is to be faithful to Halle and Beyonce. Besides, you’ll be disappointed.” Spike shrugged hoping to look casual. “She’s really not that hot.”
Ms. Summers leaning towards him, her blonde mane cascading over her shoulder, flashing him her million dollar smile.
The image crossed his mind briefly, but just long enough to make his cock twitch in his pants. His hand reached for his cigarettes of its own volition. He hoped Gunn didn’t notice the flame trembling when he lit the smoke. But his friend just kept on talking, oblivious to the blonde man’s state of mind.
“Yeah… I guess you’re right. My girls would get pissed if I’d think about some other chick. And if she’s working as penitentiary warden, there‘s gotta be something seriously wrong with her. Who in their right mind would chose to come to prison everyday? ”
“Strangely, it didn’t cross my mind to ask. Maybe you could attack someone, or try to escape. You’ll end up in her office and you can ask her yourself. Then you’ll have a month or two in isolation so you’ll have plenty of time to ponder her bloody answer.”
“Cute.” Charles snorted. “So, she really didn’t do anything to you? I still find it a little hard to believe that she’d let you go like that. It’s her first day at work, she’s got something to prove, doesn’t she? Not that I think you deserve discipline man. I mean, I was there. I know Parker attacked you for no reason other than he’s Parker.”
“She did discipline me a little.” Spike finally said.
“What, she got her paddle out of the closet and spanked you? Was it one of those black satin and pink feathers ones, with ‘dominatrix‘ written on it?”
“Do you even listen to the shit that comes out of your mouth?”
“Come on, what did she do?”
“Extra therapy sessions and she took me away from the license plates production line and sent me to work at the library. Permanently.”
“What?!” Gunn cried out indignantly. “Dude, that’s no punishment! You hate making license plates and love the library!”
Spike shrugged.
“What is this? Did you bat your pretty eyelashes at the woman?”
“Did not you wanker. And there’s nothing pretty ‘bout my eyelashes. They’re manly.”
Gunn took a good look at his friend. “Oh God, that’s why you don’t want to answer any questions! You like her! You liiiike her” he said in a sing-song voice, sounding like a twelve year old school boy.
“Would you sod off already and…”
Both men looked up when they heard someone clearing their throat to get attention. Two of the guys were standing there. Andrew and Jonathan. Also known as Spike’s most devoted groupies. Those two were the kind of guys that you’d imagine more easily sitting at home in front of their computers chatting about Star Wars, than as permanent occupants of a penitentiary. But they were in for massive Internet fraud as well as being accomplice in a girl’s murder. Their new occupation: stalking Spike.
Spike sighed, annoyed beyond words at seeing the two boys.
“What the bloody Hell do you want? Don’t you have someone else to drive stalkers? Go play D&D, exchange Star Trek cards… whatever it is you geeks do nowadays.”
When Andrew didn’t open his mouth to talk, Jonathan elbowed him in the ribs. Andrew yelped.
“Hey! That hurt you freak--Oh--yeah. Huh.. We, we were wondering…”
“We wanted to know, since you’ve met the new warden before everybody else, and we think that’s pretty neato what you did to that jerk Parker by the way, he soooo deserved it for attacking you like that, he’s such a jerk… and that cool move you did… man, how did you do that? It looked like something right out of Star wars, you know in Return of the Jedi when…”
Gunn growled. “If you don’t stop rambling and cut to the chase, you have no idea what I’m gonna do to you.”
Jonathan’s eyes bulged out comically at the threat. “Right. Anyway, what’s she like? Cause, you know, to be mentally prepared. Is she really bad? What does she look like? Is she like…”
Spike rubbed his temples, feeling the headache forming. “You starting to turn blue there, Spock. Take a deep breath.”
Andrew gave Jonathan a nasty look and hissed between his teeth: “Shut up, he’ll think we’re losers.”
Spike didn’t even bother pretending he didn’t hear. “I pretty much already think you are, so don’t worry bout it.” He rolled his eyes at the two geeks. “She’s a real evil bint, alright? Now you be good nerds and be on your merry way.”
“What do you mean she’s evil? What did she do?” Andrew asked, curious.
“She’s real scary. Yelled a lot, gave me enough shit to do that I’ll have to come back after I die to finish. Now leave. I’m sure you’re dying to tell everybody.”
Spike flicked his cigarette butt at them with a scold on his face. They backed up hurriedly, not wanting to push their luck.
“Why did you lie?”
“Don’t know. The bird’s been real nice to me, I’d be the biggest wanker in the world if I’d go tell everybody. How would she get respect if she already has the reputation of being soft on her first day on the job?”
“You liiiiiike her!”
“And do you like your teeth the way they are? Cause I can rearrange them if you don’t shut your bloody gob.”
Gunn made kissing noises and laughed when Spike gave him a warning growl.
“What are you? Twelve?”
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“LIGHTS OUT.”
Spike stared at the shadows on the wall for the longest time, listening to the not so familiar prison’s sounds. He had been told that you get used to it after a while and don’t even hear it anymore, but it had been six months for him and it still felt like his first day… everyday.
That old saying about getting used to everything? That was bullocks. Certain things were just too horrible for a human mind to get past. Maybe it depended on who you were. Spike could see how a ruthless murderer, a rapist, or someone who spent the best years of his life in unmentionable dives and dark alleys, could possibly call this place home. After all, you had free food. Not very good, but still. And you had cable TV, a gym, you could even study if you felt like it. For some, it was the bloody Hilton, that‘s what it was. Or maybe more like the Super 8 motel.
But this world was not his. He didn’t belong there. He had always loved things of beauty. The little boy who grew up wanting to become a poet or write stories about love and fantasy worlds, was lost in the confined cell. The only freedom he had left was his imagination.
Spike closed his eyes, trying to erase from his mind the images of the steel bars, the concrete floor and walls, the chair bolted to the floor. He felt so exposed in the open cell, under the very thin blanket; Snyder, his cell mate, snoring loudly in the cot right underneath his own.
The noises were so near that he could almost hear Gunn breathing in his own cell. He forced himself to block the sounds out. To not feel the rough blanket against his skin. The cold. It was all making it hard for him to escape to his own world. But he was trying anyway. Every night he was trying, but now, he had a motivation. She made it easier. Behind his closed eyelids, he saw the world as it should be.
He was walking across UCLA’s campus under the bright afternoon sun. He had never met Drusilla Blackwell. Didn’t know the name. Angel and Darla didn’t even exist. Just him, under the sun. Free.
There was a new literature teacher and she wanted to see him to talk about one of his papers. At least that‘s what the email he received earlier said. He hadn‘t even had a class with her yet so he didn‘t know what to expect.
Spike turned on his side, wincing as the cot protested loudly. He curled up in a protective manner. Habit he picked up on his very first horrible night in jail.
Spike walked through a long succession of sunny hallways and came to a stop in front of the teacher’s office. She had obviously just moved into the office because the plaque on the door hadn’t been changed. Instead, a piece of paper covered it and a delicate handwriting said: Buffy Summers.
His light knock on the door was quickly answered by a feminine voice.
“Come in please.”
Spike pushed the door open. There she was. His dream girl. Looking like a goddess. The sunrays streaming through the window behind her were putting a halo around her golden hair making her look like a vision. God she was perfect. The strap of her yellow sundress sliding down her tanned shoulder…
Spike frowned. *Sundress? Not very teacher-like… Oi! Sod off! It’s my bloody dream and she’ll wear a sundress if I want her to.*
He rolled his eyes at his own internal argument, and reached down under the blanket to touch his already painfully hard erection. His cock jumped, desperately needing the attention.
Spike just stood there without saying a word. He couldn’t have even if he wanted to. They were staring at each other, the electricity flying between them. She finally broke the silence.
“Mr. Rayne, right?”
He nodded numbly. “…William.”
“Shut the door and lock it, William.”
Spike took hold of his hard cock and gave it a few slow strokes. He stiffened a moan, not wanting to attract attention to himself.
“You wanted to see me Ms. Summers?”
Buffy crooked her finger and motioned for him to approach.
“I saw you this morning walking around campus” She said in a breathy voice, shaking her golden hair on her shoulders.
Spike took a step towards where she was sitting on her desk.
“I just needed to find out who you were and… “ She waited, looking at him as he got closer. “…meet you in person.”
He was so close that he could feel her breath on his face, smell her perfume. Her tiny little hand reached down to caress the bulge that had been forming in his pants. She never broke eye contact while her nimble little fingers were tracing the contour of his penis through the fabric of his trouser. Her lips were so moist and shiny… so close he could almost taste her.
Without a warning, she unzipped his pants and took his throbbing cock out.
Spike gripped his cock harder and started pumping at a fast pace, trying to convince himself that it was Buffy giving him a hand job, not himself. It was getting harder to stay quiet but it wouldn’t do to have a guard walking in front of his cell and bring attention to him by making some loud, rude comment--they did it all the time, but he himself never got caught. Thank God. He really wasn’t the “public display” kinda guy.
“I want you William. As soon as I saw you, I knew I had to have you.”
She jerked him faster, then, feeling that he was about to come, reached down with her other hand to caress his balls. Her eyes never left his.
Spike did the same while the vision of Buffy smiled at him. He took some of the toilet paper he had left by his cot and came in it, hiding his face in his pillow to keep quiet.
Spike calmed down and shut his eyes tightly as realization sunk in.
*The warden, you BLOODY, STUPID, IDIOTIC, WANKER. THE SODDIN WARDEN!! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR GODDAMN MIND?! Argh!*
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Chapter 4: Every night
A/N: Good? Bad? Hot? Blah? Enjoyable? Borring? Let me know! ;-)
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